


Marks

by lillpon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Family, Father/Daughter Time, Gen, mentions of past physical abuse of a teenager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 14:32:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillpon/pseuds/lillpon
Summary: Little Alice wonders why she doesn’t have any marks on her back, like her papa does.





	Marks

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t slept at all... I was actually scared I would fall asleep and forget all about this... weird idea of a fic. But I didn’t sleep, it’s 8 am, so here it is, I wrote it!

Every new thing Killian brought in the tower was a wonder for Alice. Granted, she was still a curious five-year-old, but he'd bet her enthusiasm over the new things wouldn't have been as big if she were able to go outside.

The new full-length mirror was no exception to her scrutiny. She looked at herself, up and down, front and back, all day long. They played with it, touching it with their hands and pretending their figures on the other side were friends, wanting to play with them.

After the first few hours he'd stopped looking at her all the time out of fear she'll move it and break it, so he didn't pay any mind when after her bath, she turned her back on the mirror and looked at it suspiciously.

"My back is empty!" she said.

"What?" he turned to her after spilling the water out the window.

"My back is empty!" she repeated, more emphatically this time. She turned her back at him and pointed at it with her finger over her shoulder.

He looked at it confused. Apart from a few freckles and one or two red spots leftover from the scrubbing, her back looked perfectly normal.

"Empty of what?" he asked, kneeling down to reach her level.

"Marks," she said and turned to him.

 _Marks?_  Killian thought for a second, then he froze. He remembered how during their piggyback rides she playfully trailed her fingers along the criss-cross scars on his back, following the trails like a map, pausing on the other ones - stabbings, gunshot wounds - and acting as if treasure was buried there.

He looked at her speechless. Her little, innocent mind...

"Will I get marks like you when I grow up?" she said, and it was like a match was lit inside him.

He'd skin alive any person who'd dare hurt his Starfish like that. Or in any way, if he were honest.

"No. But that's not a bad thing," he said.

"But you have them! I wanna be like you!" she said, pouting.

"You will, darling. Tell me, do you want to explore the world?" He hadn't yet found a way to help her with that, but he had time...

"Yes."

"Do you wanna go sailing with me? When we’re both out of here?"

"Yes." A smile started spreading on her lips.

"Then you're off to a good start being like me," he said, gently touching the tip of her nose.

She smiled fully, but it quickly dropped. "And what about the marks? I wanna have the marks too!"

_No, you don't._

He sighed. She was too young to be burdened with such dark thoughts. He looked down for a moment, contemplating how to approach the subject.

"Starfish, those... marks, they're not a... good thing," he said, slowly.

"They're bad?"

He pursed his lips in thought. "Not bad, exactly, just... They're not actually marks, like... like that spot you have here," he said, pointing to a tiny spot on her shoulder, and her gaze followed. "They're called scars."

"Scars?"

"Aye. They're like this," he said, removing the brace from his arm and exposing the stumped arm. "When you..."  _injure yourself_ , he wanted to say, but he stopped himself. How could he say that? "Sometimes they appear when we... after we get hurt."

She crossed her hands in front of her. "You got hurt?" she said, almost sheepishly.

He just nodded. "But I'm alright now, see?" He straightened his back, and it was the first time in centuries that from such small movement he actually felt the pull from the scars there.

"How did you get hurt?"

He bit his lip, thinking. If he left out all the details, and most of the circumstances around his injuries, perhaps he could explain it to her... On the other hand, he didn't want to scare her. But she deserved to know, at least a part of the truth. She would no doubt be curious about it in later years.

"Do you remember what I do when you don't listen to me? Like what you did with the marmalade jar a few days ago?"

“You tell me to sit on my bed and not talk for a while."

"Right," he said, struggling to make his voice sound as calm and collected as possible. "That's called a punishment."

"Punish--"

"Punishment," he repeated.

"Punishment."

He sighed. "When I was little, but much older than you, I was working on a ship. And sometimes I didn't listen to my captains either. So I also got punished." For silly, made-up reasons. "But," he swallowed hard before continuing, "my captain was strict, very strict. And bad. And... that's how he thought I'd learn a lesson."

"Did you?" she said, slightly dropping her shoulders. She was starting to get scared.

"Not really." It wasn't a lie; their punishments never managed to quench the fire of his defiance. "But I'll never do that to you. Never. You hear me?"

She only nodded.

He touched his hand and stump softly on her arms. "Alice, I will never hurt you, I promise. No matter how many times you won't listen. You'll just spend a lot of time sitting on your bed, in that case."

That brought a smile back. He smiled too.

"Does your back hurt now?"

"No. It hasn't hurt since... forever. Although sometimes, when I stretch too much," he indicated, stretching his arms to the sides, "it feels like something's pulling at my back, like this," he said, pulling softly at the skin of her arm.

She giggled, playfully getting away from his tease. "So I won't get marks- uhh, scars?"

He shook his head. "No."  _I'll bring hell to anyone who dares cause you such pain_. "I promise you that."

"But I can still be like you!" She smiled.

"Of course, Starfish. You can be anything you want."

She moved forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. He brought his own arms around her and caressed her soft, smooth back.

"Now let's get dressed. It's getting cold." He patted twice on her back before letting go.

She kissed his cheek and ran to her bed, unfolding her nightgown. Those last moments seemed to make her forget to ask about that scar on his wrist, and why he lacks a hand in the first place, and he was glad.

That was surrounded by even darker thoughts, ones he didn't know if he ever, no matter how old she grew, would share with her.


End file.
